Destroy Me
by Lady Alabaster
Summary: Harry's mysterious disappearance two years ago leads to Draco's curiousity, and then to Draco's revenge. Will two unlikely sides have to work together to defeat a new enemy? DHslash, vampire!Harry, a bit AU
1. fangs

I've been reading a lot more lately… this kind of just came to me. Little scary Vampire Harry just makes me happy. This is probably a one shot, but I'm considering making it a two shot… see Draco get his revenge. :-)

Disclaimer: I don't claim.

Onwards!

* * *

The alley behind the Thorn Rose Bar was wet. The rain that had been pouring all day and poured into the night was making rivers down the brick walls, carving a path to the deep depths below.

A howling wind like a hyena was whipping through the air, finding all the open crevices and flowing through, reverberating and echoing.

It was the perfect night to see an old enemy.

It was the glint of hair that alerted Draco Malfoy to the presence of another man in the alley. The tiny whisp of white on soaking black was winking at him like a dying candle flame. _Come play…_ it said.

"Mr. Potter." Draco said, smirking. This was going to be fun. Just like old times.

But he got no response. The slim figure stood against the wall, soaking in water and wrapped in shadows. Draco never remembered Harry looking quite so… ominous.

"Look, Potter, I know it's you. Unless you've forgotten, it was me who called you out to this place." Draco drawled lazily. He wrapped his coat around himself tighter, the papers he was keeping dry in an inside pocket rustled. The cold was a wicked thing, biting at this face and hands. He had, of course, forgotten gloves.

"'Be in the alley off the Thorn Rose at ten tonight. I have things to discuss with you.'" Harry read off a piece of paper with the Malfoy crest in the corner. "So, discuss."

Draco looked at him a little longer, trying to read his face but the shadows held it prisoner, all he saw was Harry's lower lip as it read out the note.

"I know Jacob." Draco said calmly, even though his gut was beginning to feel otherwise, "he told me that you come by his place often."

"Then _Jacob_ talks too much." Harry said scathingly. Draco started at his cold tone.

"Potter, how would your precious Order feel if they knew you were cavorting with known Death Eaters in your spare time? Jacob told me that you go there for 'business'. What kind of business do you have with _murders_?" Draco said, pulling out the last word, mocking it.

Harry finally stepped out of the shadows. Soaking wet, his hair was plastered to his face, his jacket – which was light and didn't look very warm – was hanging off his shoulders, he looked like he'd lost some weight. The glasses were gone, and the green eyes that were so famed were looking at Draco as if they could see into his soul.

Draco had to stifle a gasp. That look was smoldering.

"Draco Malfoy. My business is none of yours. Now please tell me, why did you call me out into an alleyway? If you're not here to kill me, then why such a secluded place?"

"Because I'm giving you a choice. Do you have any idea what kind of information I have on you and your business? I could destroy you." Draco hissed.

Harry smiled. He was calm, the bastard had the nerve to stand here and be calm. Draco pulled out the file that he was keeping in his coat. In it were pictures and papers' proving Harry's new business was far from legitimate.

Draco went up to the boy-who-destroyed-the-dark-lord and waved the file in front of his face. There were raindrops soaking through it already.

"You smile?" Draco said with venom, "Do you honestly think that I wouldn't do it?"

"You can destroy me." Harry repeated, closing his eyes and looking almost rapturous. Harry exhaled and opened his eyes.

Draco didn't know what to do. Potter was acting weird. The only way he knew how to handle this was to pull out his wand and point it at the boy. Harry looked at the wand with mild curiosity and then looked back at Draco.

Within seconds Draco's wand was out of his hand and Harry Potter was pinning him to the wall behind him. Rivulets of water went down Draco's back and thoroughly soaked him. Harry's face was an inch from his own. Draco felt his heart pound like he'd just run a marathon. He hadn't even see Potter move.

"Draco," Harry said with a gentle smile. "Do you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into?"

Draco was pinned. On each side of his face was the formidable form of Harry's arm and his chest was being pushed into the wall by Harry's. He struggled for a second and then realized that no matter how delicate Harry may look, he was damn strong.

The folder containing the papers was scattered in the alley, the ink already bleeding into a puddle.

"Draco," Harry purred. "Draco."

He was speechless. Those eyes were pinning him just as much as his body was. He couldn't move, he knew something bad was going on. This wasn't Potter.

Harry's voice was low and a near whisper. His eyes were closed and he nuzzled Draco's face with his own, making Draco tilt his head and whimper. He couldn't do anything. This was total helplessness.

Draco's arms went up to try to pull Harry away again, but it was no use, he was up against a wall, with Harry in total control. He could feel Harry's hot breath on his neck, he could feel his own sweat mingle with the rain and pour down his back. His breaths came in short heaving sighs.

Be a good boy Harry… 

Draco's eyes flittered shut, the woo of whatever spell this was irresistible. He wanted Harry to hurt him, he wanted the pain.

Please, just a bite… 

Draco leaned into Harry, "Please," he breathed, "Please," He didn't even know what he was asking, all he knew was that Harry was the dominant one, and the dominant one got what he wanted.

I just want to taste him… 

Draco was now shamelessly rubbing against Harry, like a paid whore, except there was nothing fake about this. He would do anything Harry asked, he knew this and liked the feeling.

I just want a sip… 

The rubbing was getting on Harry's nerves. He was having a discussion with his conscience and Draco was doing everything in his power to distract him. He pushed his hips forward so that Draco was flat against the wall. With a moan, Draco opened his legs to give access to Harry's. Harry slid his leg up so that his knee was pressing against the soaking wall. He had the blonde spread eagled.

_There's punishment for this kind of thing…_

Draco whimpered again as Harry breathed against his neck. He was already so far under. Harry had to use every ounce of self-restraint to keep himself from just sinking in and devouring the pretty blonde, who so obviously wanted it. _But he doesn't_, Harry reminded himself, _it's me telling him that he wants it._

Draco was his. His perfect little angel, and he had him wrapped around his finger, or in this case, pushed against a wall, completely intoxicated. He grabbed Draco's arms and pinned them against the wall above his head.

Mine… 

But he knew that he couldn't have him. He couldn't destroy something so lovely, he was still a little human, he reminded himself. He opened his mouth, the sharp canines scraping the skin on Draco's neck, leaving little red trails. Harry watched with fascination as the blood oozed out with a sigh from Draco. Harry kissed the spot that he made bleed and licked it like a cat with cream.

No… 

Then he was gone.

And Draco was left alone. Wondering if what just happened, happened. He regulated his breathing and sunk down the wall that he was pinned against. He put his hand on his neck and came away with the faint pink tinge of blood. Draco looked around and saw the shadows at the end of the alley. He saw the whisp of white on soaking black winking at him.

Play… 

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. He was humiliated, bleeding and wet. _That Bastard, _Draco thought viciously.

The rain had stopped. The wind had died. But Draco stayed at that wall, regaining his composure and cursing the boy who had just given him the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.

* * *

Final note: it's not betaed… I just don't have the energy for that. So sorry. Lol, haven't updated in about a year or two so this is breaking up my hp ff writers block. Happy times.

Hope you enjoy. And remember, the more reviews the more likely I'll make it a two shot. It's not worth it if no one cares.


	2. Alone

Well, I wrote this at 1 am last night and I have no one willing to grammar check it, so sorry for any mistakes. :) This one is more focused on character instead of atmosphere like the last chapter… and I kinda started a plot incase anyone wants me to continue this.

Disclaimer: I disclaim. No monetary gains are being made here. For some reason, I do this for _fun_.

* * *

Destroy Me

Chapter 2 – Alone

Draco Malfoy woke up on the fifth of June with a feeling of great trepidation. His stomach was twisted in a knot of nervous tension and his breathing was heaving and irregular. His head was pounding and the light that was coming through the window was excruciatingly painful.

He couldn't breathe.

He tried but all that came out was rasping sounds. He turned to his side and wrapped his arms around himself. He was falling to pieces. His mind was unraveling like wet spaghetti and he felt so goddamn _alone._

The moment passed and he lay on his side, trying to regulate his breathing. His heart was pounding like mad, like a trapped thing trying to get out of his chest. He was surprised that he didn't wake the whole hotel with the racket. The white cotton sheets were wrapped around him like a cocoon of protection and the curtains were softly moving in the morning breeze.

Everything was too fucking white! Draco thought furiously. He dragged himself out of bed and staggered to the window. He pulled it closed and shut the curtains on the early morning sunshine. He quickly sat back down on the side of the bed and let himself relax in the now appropriately darker room. His breathing was again irregular because of the exertion of walking to the window, but he let himself regain his composure and waited for his aching heart to stop doing cartwheels in his chest.

This has happened on and off since he was a child. He remembered being 12 the first time it happened and crying silently because of the brightness of the lights then. He remembered his father coming in and soothing him. Lucius would hold him against his chest and murmur calming words until he relaxed. Draco thanked the Gods in was the summer when this happened, he would have never lived it down if he cried in front of his housemates at school.

After that, he was prepared. But truly, nothing could prepare him for the feeling that these 'episodes' gave him. He felt totally alone. He was in a desert, with nothing to soothe his throat and no one to see, just the sand rising up in hills around him for eternity. He was alone.

By the time he reached the tender age of 20, he was angry. Angry because these stupid feelings and episodes still hurt him, still plagued him like feral dogs biting at his feet. Draco heaved a sigh and got up. He no longer cried, he no longer felt sorry for himself, this was just something that happened, he wouldn't let it get him down, even if it hurt. Anger fueled him instead of slowing him down.

He walked to the tiny bathroom that joined his hotel room. A shower stood in one corner and a sink and toilet against the wall. It was barely adequate, but manageable. Draco turned on the shower and let it run hot while he stripped and prepared a towel by the sink. He got in and smiled at the near-burning sensation of the water covering him and washing away the feelings that the morning brought with them.

For a while he stood there, just letting himself bask in the warm steamy feeling of the water, but after a while, he started to actually clean himself. He put one hand up against the grimy glass of the shower door and traced the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY DRACO through the layers of soap scum. He smiled. He was 20 years old. He closed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, a habit that he developed over the past few months. This small and subconscious gesture brought with it a strong and very real memory.

He stopped smiling. He felt fangs on his neck. He felt the kiss. Barely a kiss, more a flicking of tongue. He saw green eyes watching him curiously and felt the rain down his back.

Draco gasped and opened his eyes. That was seven months ago, he told himself. Seven months and he couldn't get that feeling out of his head. He felt his cheeks go red, something that very rarely happened, and his blood rushing to all sorts of inappropriate places.

Draco growled and slammed his hand on the hot water handle. The water turned icy cold and he leaned his head against the dirty wall of the shower. A single tear of frustration tried to escape, but Draco turned his head back up and pinched the bridge of his nose. No, he thought angrily, not again.

Draco got out of the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist. The steam from the originally hot water fogged up the mirror and Draco only saw the fuzzy outlines of his face. He wiped the little beads of water off the mirror and was faced with his angry reflection. His near-white hair was slicked back with water and his pale eyes fumed.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth and then looked around for anything he might have forgotten. That's when he noticed the happy birthday he had traced on the shower wall. Right under it were the letters HARRY. He didn't even remember doing that.

Draco's eyes lowered and he stalked out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Draco spent the day as he usually did, in the Ministry of Education Library, looking up everything and anything to do with Veela's. This is what he'd been doing for the past two weeks. The reason he was away from home and living in a hotel.

By now, Draco's information on the subject of Veela's had increased tenfold. He wasn't interested in the pureblood Veela that was most commonly referred to in texts, but the later generation Veela's that were mixed blood.

His father was part Veela. His mother was pureblood Veela but he had to be hid from his French family because he was illegitimate, something that he didn't normally share with people. Veela blood still made him pureblood wizard, with a few perks.

Like being able to manipulate and seduce people. Like having stronger receptors, having a keener eye for people's auras and a heck of a lot more power than usual. For Lucius it was all withheld though. When he was a child, his Veela mother took him to see a witch doctor in France and he bound baby Lucius's powers within himself. He didn't really mind. With power comes the necessity to learn how to use it and he felt like he was better off without that.

Draco, however, had Veela blood. And he was never bound by a witch doctor. So he had episodes since the age of 12, and constantly felt like there was something missing in his life. Finally he had the time to figure out this weird side of him.

Generations of Veela blood can become too distilled, and their powers become subdued. Some later generation mixed Veela children lose all but the power to seduce after several years. But those with a stronger Veela presence show remarkable skill with these powers. Even without maturing, children have an intuitive way of using these powers. At a young age, these children have strong and violent episodes of panic and pain that last for several minutes. These episodes stop after the Veela has come of maturity. This usually involves strong emotional feelings or a drastic change of lifestyle. Coming of maturity can sometimes happen quite early, the age of 14 was once reported, and sometimes doesn't happen at all. The violent episodes can be restricted by certain medications, but this does not always work…

Draco had read this passage over and over for the past week. It made sense, but it didn't make it easier for Draco to live with himself.

"Coming of maturity… what crap." he muttered to himself. He could use some of his powers, but they didn't help him unless he was in a very _intimate_ setting.

Draco sighed and shut the book. There was nothing else to read. He had found every book on Veela's in the library. Time to go back to the Hotel.

Harry heard the keys jingle in the lock and the squeak of the door as it opened. He heard the rustle of bags as Draco walked into his hotel room and laid them on the counter in the tiny kitchen. Harry closed his eyes and heard Draco's quiet intake of breath and heard the sound of Draco's hand rubbing his neck.

Draco still hasn't noticed the vampire sitting on the made bed. This wasn't really that hard to believe, since the bed was on the side of the door and you couldn't see it until you closed the door, and it was also in part because Harry sat so still you wouldn't believe he was there until you touched him.

Finally Harry sat up and tilted his head to look at Draco's form by the kitchen counter. The beautiful boy's eyes were closed and he was absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck. Harry smiled; he was just as he had remembered him. Slim and pale, almost painfully beautiful. In a way, he was almost pretty, he had very effeminate features that gave him a soft look.

Draco opened his eyes and noticed the vampire sitting on his bed. The blonde boy's eyes hardened but he didn't step back. Harry took this as a good sign.

"Draco," Harry said softly.

Draco opened his mouth and crinkled his brow, as if looking for the right words. Finally he set on, "I hate you."

Harry simply grinned. "Yes, that's probably true."

Draco blinked a few times and set about taking the groceries out of the bags he carried in. He was ignoring Harry, probably hoping that he would leave if Draco didn't say anything.

Harry noticed that throughout this process, Draco never turned his back to him. He didn't make eye contact but Harry knew that he was very aware of him.

Finally, Harry got up and walked to the blonde. Draco sidestepped him to put a bottle of juice into the humming fridge. He went back to the bags and got out a carton of eggs, but this time Harry stood firmly in front of him and when Draco tried to step past, Harry moved as well. They stepped to the side several times, before Harry simply took the eggs and turned around to put them in the fridge himself. Draco sighed and decided that ignoring Harry wasn't working.

"Are you here to humiliate me again?" Draco asked abruptly.

"No." came a muffled reply from behind the fridge door.

Draco folded his arms and exhaled. "Are you here to hurt me?" he asked quietly.

"No." came the casual reply.

"Potter…"

"Harry."

"Don't tell me to call you by your first name, you cornered me in an alleyway and sucked my blood. We are the farthest thing from friends there can be."

Harry straightened up and looked over at Draco. Strangely, there was no anger or tension in Draco's words, just a cold indifference.

"I did not corner you. You came to me. And I'm sorry for what I did to you. It truly wasn't my intension." Harry said.

"You _bit_ me!" Draco hissed furiously.

"You tried to blackmail me." Harry replied.

"You _bit_ me!" Draco repeated.

Harry shrugged. "You tasted good."

Draco stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth partly opened and just started at Harry.

"You. _Bit_. Me." Draco enunciated every word carefully.

"Draco…" Harry breathed the word. "You have no idea how sorry I am. I hadn't fed all day and you… You are so goddamn beautiful. I couldn't stop, I was as intoxicated as you were."

Harry sighed. The downside to his special gift of bewitching his victims was that it affected him too. Damn double-edged sword.

Draco walked up to Harry, their faces an inch apart, Draco's still crossed arms pushing into Harry's chest, and kissed him.

It was a brush of lips. Just the softest touches. Draco smiled as Harry sharply inhaled. His eyes fluttered shut and he stood there, in front of Draco, just breathing him in.

Draco stepped past him and walked to the bed.

"Do you have any idea how much I want to hurt you?" Draco asked conversationally.

Harry said nothing.

"Do you know how many fantasies I've entertained with in which I do to you what you did to me?"

Harry finally turned and walked over to Draco. "I love you." He said softly.

Draco laughed. He knew this was going to happen. I always happens.

"No you don't." Draco replied sadly. "You think you love me because my blood sings to you. My Veela blood."

Harry started. This was new.

Then Draco pulled Harry around and pushed him onto the bed. Harry hadn't even realized what happened before 145 pounds of blonde was straddling him. Harry's mind still hadn't caught up when Draco kissed him, this time more forcefully. The kiss pushed the two bodies down on the bed, Draco on top. Harry's lips opened in surprise, and Draco used his as his entry into Harry's mouth.

Harry was motionless. He could have easily pulled the blonde off him, but there was some other driving force holding him to the bed. He had no desire to move. His will was not his own anymore.

"mnhm…" Harry moaned into Draco's mouth. Draco finally stopped and lifted his head enough to see his handiwork. What a pleasant turnaround, he thought. Look who was pinned now? Pinned and quivering like a butterfly. Harry's eyes fluttered again and he made the most beautiful noise with his throat. He rolled his head back and arched his back into Draco.

"Draco…" he whispered.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco said, lowering his mouth to Harry's jaw line, leaving little kisses leading to his ear.

"What have you done to me?" Harry gasped.

Draco chuckled into Harry's ear. It was a very evil laugh. Harry practically purred with delight at the feeling of Draco's tongue licking his ear.

While Draco's mouth was preoccupied with making Harry sigh with arousal, his hands were unbuttoning the black shirt. He made sure not to touch Harry. When he was done, he broke away from Harry's ear and sat up again.

Harry instantly felt the loss of the warm body on top of him and he mewed with impatience.

"Don't stop," he said in between breaths.

Draco smiled and ran his fingers down Harry's chest. Harry mewed again and arched his back into Draco's touch. Draco knew exactly what he was doing. Veela powers may have him in excruciating agony in the mornings, but they came in handy here. He had pushed the Veela magic that normally lay dormant into Harry, making him completely powerless to resist him, and he also intensified Harry's pleasure receptors, making the lightest touch burn right down to his soul.

Harry's mind was filled with one thought. Need.

He needed Draco to keep touching him. "Please, Draco, please." Harry begged.

Draco's hands curled into claws and he ran them swiftly down Harry's chest, leaving angry red marks behind. Harry screamed, "Oh, god, yes!"

Hmmm, so he likes pain, Draco thought carefully. This could get interesting.

"Do you want me to hurt you Harry?" Draco whispered into Harry's ear.

"Yes." Harry breathed. Draco chuckled again.

"Are you mine Harry?" Draco hissed.

"Yes."

"Say it, Harry." Draco demanded.

Harry was panting, "I'm… yours, all… yours." He whispered.

Draco leaned down to Harry's nipple. First licking, then lightly tugging and then biting. Harry saw white. His hands were working the sheets into a mess and his head rolled back, his breathing was coming out in short little mews, and he was painfully hard.

Draco pulled back and watched. This was exactly what he wanted.

"Draco, please, don't stop." Harry breathed.

"No." Draco relied simply.

"Please." Harry begged, arching his back.

Draco put both his arms on either side of Harry's head and forcefully said, "No."

A tear ran out of Harry's eye. "Please don't leave me like this…" Harry said quietly.

Draco sighed. Damn, but the boy was pretty. And he absolutely loved the way he shook under him. He wouldn't leave him. He told him that he hated him, but there was something there. No one ever took advantage of him like Harry had. It almost felt… good. Draco had never spent hours repeating the memory of one kiss. Harry had undone him without even touching him. No, he definitely wouldn't leave him, he damn well wouldn't let go of him.

"I wont leave you. But I wont finish either." Draco told him.

Harry sighed and shook more violently. He wrapped his arms around the blonde and pulled him close. For a second, Draco remembered that the pretty boy had pretty fangs, so he tilted his head in a way so Harry couldn't sink in and wrapped his own arms around Harry, leaning his head on Harry's still shaking shoulder.

They stayed that way for a while, until Draco's blazing hard-on disappeared, and Harry's breathing evened out.

Finally, Draco lifted his head and looked down at Harry. He noticed the eight red trails his fingernails left on Harry's skin, and smirked.

"You're marked," he said, satisfied with himself. "You're mine."

Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Draco. "I'm yours." He confirmed.

Draco lay down next to Harry. Harry turned and wrapped himself around the blonde, tucking his head into Draco's shoulder. "I'm yours." He repeated softly.

They drifted into sleep, and for once, Draco didn't feel alone.

* * *

AN: I wanted to keep any explicit sex out of the story because I think it's not all that necessary. I think that a physical connection was needed between the two, but I still am not that sure about rules about fics with sex in them. I don't want to step on any toes, and I kind of like it like this. Lol, even though there's the whole masochist Harry thing now.

I'm considering continuing this fic if anyone is interested. I even thought of a good plot. It'll be short, but good for me, because I need something to break me out of my fic block.

Review if you like (or don't like) and tell me if you'd like an actual story. :)


	3. angry eggs

WARNING: there is plot beyond this point. If you are expecting PWP or just fluff, you should refrain from going beyond this point. The twoshot is over, the story begins…

The usual disclaimer: I don't claim. And this applies to the whole story.

Still unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine.

* * *

Destroy Me

Chapter 3 Angry Eggs

Draco woke to the delicious smell of eggs the next morning. While he was still lazily drifting between dreams and reality, he took in the nice small. Somehow, he subconsciously knew that when he woke up and realized why it smelled this way, he would not be as happy. He didn't move, didn't even open his eyes, and just lay there for a minute and tried to remember what happened the day before.

When it came back to him, Draco's eyes flew open and he lay very still.

_Was he still here?_ Draco thought anxiously. _Obviously, who else would be cooking in his hotel room? _Draco contemplated all exit routes from his hotel room and considered whether avoiding Harry was worth jumping out of a three-story window. He bit his lip and decided to face the music.

Yawning and rolling around in the bed, he faced the kitchen counter to see a dark-haired boy at his stove, making eggs. A jug of juice was already on the counter, and a fruit platter was adorning the little placemat that was in the middle of the counter. Draco got up and walked over.

Harry's head was down, and Draco couldn't see his expression. He decided that he probably didn't want to. He really embarrassed the boy last night. He knew it. But, honestly, he deserved it! Draco thought furiously.

Draco sat down on one of the long bar stools that were at the table and placed his hands in his lap, watching Harry intently.

Harry clicked off the stove and slid the eggs off the skillet onto a plate. Finally he looked up at Draco.

If looks could kill… Draco would be ash on the wind. The look in Harry's eyes was nearly enough to make Draco regret getting his revenge. Harry's usually full lips were thin in an angry line; his eyes were blazing with sparks of red. The vampire almost looked… dangerous.

Harry slammed the plate in front of Draco, who jumped at the force of it. Finally, Draco couldn't take it anymore, he looked away. The plate had a thin crack down the middle.

"Did you poison the eggs?" he asked, jokingly.

"They don't sell poison at the market." Harry replied, with a totally straight face.

Draco sighed. "Look, I'm sorry for what I did to you."

"Sorry?" Harry whispered.

"Yeah. I know I'm not supposed to use my powers to hurt people and all, but, come on, you bit me."

Harry's eyes lowered to slits.

"You completely humiliated me when you bit me." Draco kept going, "I've been looking for you for the past seven months. I've been looking for revenge."

"_You_ were looking for revenge? It was your fucking Veela blood that made me bite you. I've only been a vampire for two years; I knew I couldn't restrain myself all the time, that's why I stayed away from people. Why do you think I started hanging out with Death Eaters? Because they can protect themselves. Because I didn't trust myself! Damn, I couldn't have stop myself from Veela blood…" Harry ranted.

"Look… you hurt me, I hurt you. We're square now. Let's just forget everything that was said and done last night and before, OK?" Draco pleaded.

"No, not OK."

Draco sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

Harry opened his mouth, but shut it furiously when he realized he had nothing to say. Instead, he took a piece of banana from the fruit plate and chewed it silently.

"I thought vampires couldn't eat food." Draco said quietly, looking for something to say.

"Not all of them, but some of us do. It's useful to restrain the bloodlust. It helps me not to bite and kill you right now." Harry said calmly.

"Good to know." Draco's eyes widened.

Harry sighed. "Fine. Lets forget it and just… move on."

"Good."

"If you ever mention to anyone that I said 'I love you' to you, I will hunt you down and feed you to vicious animals."

"Deal."

"Or when I said that I'm yours."

Draco went red. He didn't know where that came from when he said it.

"Yeah," he said, blushing slightly.

Harry exhaled through his teeth and walked around the kitchen. This didn't take him long, because it was so small, so he started to fidget with the dishtowel, wringing it over and over again in his hands. He was looking for something to do. This morning when he woke up, he started to cook, because it was a better alternative to waking up Draco and bludgeoning him to death. Now he was having those urges again.

"Veela blood…" he murmured. If only he knew before.

"Yeah. My dad's side. It's never been so strong before." Draco said thoughtfully.

Harry just shook his head. "I need to leave," he said. _I need to feed._

"OK."

Harry walked to the door and grabbed his coat from the hanger.

"I'd say see you later, but I really hope I don't." Harry said to the blonde.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.

Harry turned one last time to look at him. He really was remarkably beautiful. A beautiful asshole, Harry thought viciously. He walked out of room, hoping to never have to go back again, and slammed the door for good measure.

Draco watched the door and rolled his eyes at the childlike behavior. _It was justified though_, he thought.

He pulled the plate of eggs towards him and grabbed a fork. At least he was getting a nutritious breakfast for once.

Draco pondered what he would do next. Probably back to the manor for a while. He had gotten what he was searching for in the past seven months; he had no more purpose here. And he got a good bit of self-research done too. Maybe it was time to go on a trip to France with his father. Or maybe look up him friend Blaise and ask him to go somewhere with him. He got what he wanted, his nightmares were no longer a problem anymore, and he could get on with life. Life without Potter.

But, damn, they were good eggs.

OoO

Harry stalked out of the hotel, carefully avoiding the rays of sunlight that shone through the grimy windows. He went out the back way, through the hotel kitchen into the shaded alley in the back. A teenage boy was leaning against the wall by the mouth of the alley. Harry walked over to him.

5'6'', good looking, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old. He was skinny, but looked like he could hold his own. The typical bite junkie.

"Hey." Harry called to the guy. "What are you doing here? Dark alley… you could get hurt."

"I'm lookin' to get hurt." The boy replied with a slight Irish accent.

"Perfect," Harry said, smiling and showing pointy incisors. It was so easy being a vampire in London. Everyone was hooked on the new drug. The Vampires' Kiss.

Harry quickly got it over with, giving the boy a mild dose of his enchanting magic to take away the pain and replace it with pleasure, and was on his way after making sure the boy hadn't lost too much blood. He had gotten very good at telling by now. Small amounts over time made it better than too much but spaced out.

The Lady teaches well, Harry mused, chuckling. The Lady was his mentor, helping him with any and all questions related to vampires. Maybe now was a good time to go find her. He needed to get out of this forsaken place and find something to do to take his mind off what Draco just did to him.

How humiliating, Harry raged. He shook his head side to side to regain his self-control. It was especially hard that morning, when he woke up next to the boy.

He needed to find the Lady, and finding her was always a tricky business. For that, he would have to stay in town for a few days.

Harry walked down the alley for a bit and finally found what he was looking for. It was the drainpipe for the sewer system. He hooked his fingers through the grate and pushed a button he knew was there. This activated that bolts that held the drainpipe in place and it shifted so Harry could jump through. Above him, the drainpipe automatically closed.

This feature was now on every drainpipe in the London area. The sewer system was interconnected so that no matter which pipe you took, you would be able to find the opening to the Coop.

The Coop was the nickname of the underground Vampire hotel. It was small but safe and held at least ten vampires at this time. The beauty of it was that the humans didn't know about it and the Wizarding world didn't either. It was cold and dark, perfect for a vampire, and cheap.

Harry went into his room and decided that sleeping away the afternoon was the best idea. That night he would go looking for the Lady.

* * *

This chapter was short…

Well, here we go. I'm trying to dole out information about vampires and Veela's in moderation so please bare with me. There'll be more creatures in this fic so it'll be tough…

Review. It keeps me writing.


	4. Sterling Slytherin

AN: I know, I know, it's been nearly a moth since I updated. I'm very sorry, but if you knew what happened to me, you would be sympathetic. But its my birthday so I figured that I'd finish this chapter and update it for you guys. Anyway, this chapter introduces one new character, and you don't have to worry, she's not a Sue, she's a supporting character to help me explain vampires… so no flames please. And Ron, Hermione, and Ginny make their appearance. They're quite important in this story so if you don't like them, sorry. Anyway, Disclaimer: not mine… etc etc.

Onwards!

* * *

Destroy Me

Chapter 4 Sterling Slytherin

Harry stood in front of the mirror and smiled at his reflection. Black pvc pants, a forest green wifebeater and black pumas. Yes, he'd be cold while he walked through the June night air, but once he got into the club, it would be raging hot. He took off his glasses and placed them on the night side table. He hardly ever wore them anymore - vampirism improved his vision - but he liked them and wore them out of habit.

He was going to Sterling, the hot new vampire nightclub. It was all hush-hush from the Wizards, so getting in was a real pain, but it was the place that Harry was most certain to find the Lady. And maybe a tasty snack too.

Sterling was a notch in the belt of the new craze. It started in France, where the Vampire Council convened, so vampire activity there was higher than any other country. A vampire by the name of Frost opened a nightclub where humans could come to get bitten. It was their new fascination, cavorting with vampires, and most vampires tried to only feed on those that were willing, and this was a good option for both parties.

A few times there were 'accidents', but this is bound to happen when blood is being willingly splashed around. The vampires try to keep a good business, after all, without humans, they have nothing to munch on.

Harry got out of the Coop and stepped out into the cold night. It was summer in London, but it was still chilly at night. Harry could instantly feel goose bumps rising on his arms, so he briskly walked the six blocks to the warehouse district. This area was filled with old houses that were used mainly for surplus storage of big factories. There were a few stores and hotels crammed in, but it was a quiet area. Except for the parties.

Harry recognized a few of the vampires walking down the street and waved. They were laughing and talking animatedly with a few humans, their arms around the humans' waists and with drinks in hand. The light from the streetlights made silhouettes of the figures but Harry could see how the humans were falling over their own feet, obviously drunk. The Vampires waved back and pointed Harry towards the left alley.

On the outside it looked like a warehouse. It was about the size of a large supermarket, except that the linoleum that was covering the walls was peeling away to show the rotten walls underneath like some cheap hooker. Rusty rivers were pouring down the metal frames from the leaky pipes, making it seem like the whole building was a crying old woman. There were holes in the walls and the light coming from inside was flashing out into the night like some sort of sick SOS light. The beams that supported the drooping ceiling were graffitied with tags of the local gangs and Vampire symbols. Only someone who knew the Vampires knew what those signs really did. There was a set of doors propped open, something that a random passerby wouldn't notice unless he was looking for it. The air around the warehouse was suppressed like a hand squeezing the atmosphere; there was less noise than usual here.

Harry walked through the doors and saw the bouncer. A stereotypical bald man with ham-like arms crossed over his chest, or as far as he could cross his arms. Harry smiled, showing pointed teeth and the man waved him through.

Once he stepped over the threshold, the music hit him like a physical force. It was pumping, driving, moving him like he was a puppet on strings. There were bodies everywhere, swaying and grinding to the music. The place was covered in a thick cotton-candy-like fog, but the techno lights still managed to slice through, casting a green glow on the skin of the people dancing. It was fast, furious, but at the same time, slow-motion, as if the strobe-lights only caught flashes of moments in time. The mass was moving together, but made up of hundreds of individuals. No one stood out here, no matter how crazy they looked.

Above, through the smoky fog, Harry could see the railing that wound around the top level. This was the VIP lounge. That would be where the Lady was. Where all the vampires were, watching over the humans and picking the ones they want, like some sort of sick buffet.

Harry wound through the bodies, dancing and gyrating along with them so that he could move, and made it to the other side, where the staircase wound up to the second level. A boy with bright pink hair sticking up in every direction bumped into him and laughed. He danced on as if nothing had happened, his laughter disintegrating into the sound of the music and people.

Harry walked up the staircase, and nobody noticed. It was invisible to the humans, they just saw a wall. As Harry rose higher, the music became quieter and quieter, finally just staying at a low murmur in the background.

Here, it was darker, the strobe lights not reaching this high, the only sound was the low hum of the music, the murmur of ancient voices and the clinking of glass as the Vampires drank. There was a scattering of vampires leaning over the railing and talking amongst themselves. Some were sitting on the plush couches that were up against the wall, wine glasses of red liquid in their delicate, pale hands.

Harry walked along the side, checking for any sign of his mentor. Finally he saw the trademark dress that made her instantly recognizable.

It was a nineteenth century plum purple ball gown that looked like someone had cut off most of the skirt. The corset and some of the petticoat was still there, but it was cut so short that it was barely appropriate. Coupled with purple stockings and high heeled boots, she looked like something that had stepped out of the past and got cut up by beasts with a fashion sense.

"Lady Charlotte." Harry said.

She looked up from the conversation she was having with the vampire boy sitting next to her and smiled. It was a brilliant smile, a child's smile. There was something perpetually childlike about the Lady.

"Harry." She gasped. "I didn't know you were in town."

"I came to settle a grudge." Harry replied. "I knew you were in town so I thought I'd find you."

"Oh, thank you Harry. You have no idea how boring it's been here." She relied in a breathy tone. "London just isn't as interesting as it was a century ago."

"Thank God for the clubs, right?"

"Hmm… yes." She said thoughtfully.

She looked Harry up and down, her eyes worried.

"You look different. Your aura is terrible." She finally said, her usual child's voice a low whisper.

"I'm mad." Harry replied truthfully. There was no point in hiding anything from Charlotte. She was an old vampire. One of the Originals. And with age comes power. She knew everything. Especially about him.

"Ah, the grudge." She said knowingly.

"Yeah." Harry relied.

"Well, lets go for a walk then, I find it helps me figure things out."

Harry knew perfectly well that this was a ploy to find out more about him. Charlotte was very curious about him. For someone so old and powerful she wasn't someone that dealt with the young vampires. But there was something about Harry that drew him to her. She was always curious for more information about him. Harry found this to be a blessing because Charlotte knew the right people, people who usually don't associate themselves with such young vampires. But getting into these elder circles was very advantageous, so Harry felt extremely lucky.

So they walked through the night streets of London, Harry telling her all about Draco and their past. Somehow the night air was even colder than it was before…

OoO

Ron, Hermione and Ginny have been stuck in the Burrow for what seemed like an eternity.

They left only to go to work or to see relatives. Live had become monotonous. They all wanted to do something, but what was there to do. They had played Quiddich with the twins so many times that it had actually bored Ron, something Hermione thought could never happen.

They all knew why it was this way. They were all waiting.

Waiting for some news about Harry.

Two years ago he was living on his own at Grimmauld Place, and one day, when they went to go visit, he was gone. The house was coated in a layer of dust and there was nothing there. Kreacher just said that Master Harry left one day on an errand and never returned.

Since then, they hadn't heard a single word from anyone. There were a few people who 'claimed' to have seen him, but these were unreliable at best. There wasn't news of his death so the trio still held out hope that Harry was alive somewhere, with a bad case of amnesia.

They stayed at the Burrow and repeated the same things they do everyday for the past two years.

"Ron, we need to do something." Hermione said. This had become like a saying that she kept repeating over and over, hoping that the more she said it, the more ideas would come.

"Like what?" came the standard reply.

"I think we should move into Grimmauld Place." She said after a pause.

This was unexpected. Hermione never came up with an idea before, she just asked the question.

Ron looked up from the sports section of his evening prophet and crinkled his eyebrows.

"Ginny, what do you think?" Hermione asked the little redhead sitting at the table next to her brother.

"I think that's an excellent idea." She said.

Ginny didn't seem surprised at Hermione's suggestion, a fact that didn't pass over Ron.

"You two planned this?" he said.

"Well," Hermione stalled, "we considered it a while ago, but we didn't think you were ready."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron said, injured.

"You talk in your sleep, Ron." Hermione answered innocently.

"Oh."

Ginny laughed at the look on her brother's face.

"I think we should do it as soon as possible. I need something to break this rut we've managed to work ourselves into." Ginny said.

Ron looked from one girl to the other. For the first time in a long while, they looked genuinely pleased. Maybe this was the answer. Maybe they could figure out what happened to Harry if they lived in his house. Maybe he's been locked in a closet somewhere this whole time…

"OK." Ron said, "but we have to tell Mom – "

"Already have. She was very happy to hear it." Ginny interrupted.

"Oh, OK, then we have to start packing, I guess – "

Again, he was interrupted, "Done that too. I called it spring cleaning." Hermione said with a smile.

"You know, now that you mention it, I _was_ wondering why you put everything in boxes." Ron said, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Yes, well…" Hermione muttered, blushing.

"Anything else I should know about?" Ron said with a sigh.

"I called your work to tell them of the address change, and Hermione called the movers. We'll need to clean up the house before we shove our stuff inside, but that should be pretty easy since Kreacher has been cleaning a bit." Ginny said, listing things off her fingers.

Hermione nodded along with the younger girl. Ron just shook his head; this was the first time the girls have been this excited about anything, and if it made them this animated, he was willing to go along with all their usual crazy girl antics.

Hermione and Ginny were chatting on and on about the move, planning the layout of the house and what to put where.

"…and we have to have a moving party, of course."

"Definitely. We'll have maybe three days to clean and put everything in place, and we can have the party the next week… probably the Saturday."

The chitchat continued and both girls didn't notice the small smile that played on Ron's face. Maybe things would finally get back on track.

Ron picked up his abandoned _Prophet_ and buried himself in the latest Quiddich stats.

oOo

Draco smiled at the letter he got from Blaise. He could always count on his friend to send quick replies and to be up for any kind of new adventure.

Draco told him that he was in London and had nothing to do. Blaise relied with:

_No worries D, _

_I'll be down in London in three days time. Find something to do in the meantime, I'll find you and we'll party. _

_BLZ_

Quick, short and informative. Just how Draco liked his letters. No emotional crap to get in the way of the point.

Now the blonde had something to look forward to. He just had to fill the void of three days time.

It was dark outside. The view outside Draco's window was of the Ministry of Education's secret entrance. It was closer to the Leaky Cauldron than Draco would have liked, but this Hotel was one of the few that let him pay with Galleons. He wanted to stay away from the Wizarding World. They didn't look too kindly upon the Malfoy's anymore.

Draco got up from the desk and walked to stare out the window. It was open, and the chill was getting into the room. It was an unusually cold time for England. It was summer after all. But instead of the usual unbearable heat, it was wet and cold. It even rained that night, leaving wet puddles on the cracked cement and prompting the citizens of the city to stay indoors.

Draco sighed and closed the window. It was too cold.

There was nothing for him to do. He had gotten everything he wanted from London, his research and his revenge. Now he was left with the silence and the creeping thoughts that kept running through his mind.

Coming of age… maybe… no it couldn't be, Draco thought. He couldn't have become a mature Veela; it required some sort of ritual magical awakening. But why was his magic so much stronger than usual? He wasn't supposed to be this strong. He could feel the energy coursing through his veins like something foreign. It was snaking through him like poison… but the good kind of poison. The kind of poison that you would gladly give in to.

And _Harry_. Why did Harry have this strange effect of him? Why did last night, when he held the dark-haired boy in his arms, feel like the most peaceful time in his life? The feeling of being totally alone finally surrounded him and Draco slid down to the floor, wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked back and forth. He was hyperventilating, not letting the tears out, because he had too much pride to cry about a boy.

The darkness that pressed against the window surrounded him like a cold wet blanket. Unwanted and depressing, it wrapped itself around Draco and transported him into a night of restless dreams that all involved a boy with the greenest eyes.

* * *

AN: I have no actual knowledge of the London city so forgive my bad directions… Other than that, thank you for the 12 reviews and 21 alerts and 8 favs. You guys rock, and you kept me motivated during the stagnant days of non-writing. :) PS: this is not betaed. Sorry. 


	5. The Redeemers

Author's Note: the summary for this fic will be changed because it's now a full-length fic. Just FYI :)

The usual disclaimer: not mine. xcept Charlotte. Who isn't in this chapter.

* * *

Destroy Me

Chapter 5 – the Redeemers

"What in the name of Merlin's left testicle are you wearing?" Draco said, his eyes wide and a horrified expression on his face.

"Isn't it great?" Blaise said, with a gigantic grin on his face. "I found it in a muggle shop. You wouldn't believe the sorts of things that they've invented without magic."

"Just because things are invented doesn't make them worthy of purchase." Draco relied, shivering from the horror.

"Relax, Drake, I promise I wont wear it in public. With you." Blaise said.

Draco just stared. It was a purple and lime green stripy hat with a _propeller_ on top! To make it worse, the logo on the front was a gigantic strawberry. It was so bad it clashed with _itself_.

Blaise smirked an evil smirk that was the complete paradox of the hat and reached up to flick the propeller. It lazily spun around three times while Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I can't look at it." He said, covering his eyes with his hand and jutting out his left him, a habit that he developed in his fifth year at Hogwarts. A habit that Blaise was very accustomed to, considering it was usually because of him that it happened.

Blaise grinned wickedly, but took the hat off.

"Fine," he said, "But you can't stop me from wearing the shirt I bought."

Draco shook his head, but gave in. Blaise's eccentricities were something that he'd been trying to contain for as long as he knew the boy. So far, Blaise was winning the battle, but this was all because Draco secretly loved the things Blaise did.

"You are two cans short of a picnic, you know that right?" Draco said affectionately.

Blaise just grinned and flicked the propeller again.

"Now do tell me where we can go party in this dismal place? I'm bored." He said.

"You've only been here for two minutes!" Draco exclaimed. "You haven't even unpacked yet."

"Unpacking in boring." Blaise replied and promptly walked from the living room where he apparated into the kitchen. He opened all the cupboards and made a face at all the 'healthy' things Draco had there.

"There is jack all in the flavour of junk food in your place. What the hell have you been surviving off this whole time? Crasin cookies and almonds? Draco, what has become of you?" Blaise said, holding the box that Draco had bought earlier in the hopes of detoxifying his body of all the beer, crisps and shit that he's been eating since leaving home.

With a roll of his eyes, Draco snatched the box from his hand and dumped it into the trash bin.

"Teach me how to live, then." Draco said to the brunette.

Blaise's face blossomed into the most wicked grin.

"I've been waiting a long time for you to say that." He said.

For a moment, Draco regretted saying it. He knew Blaise's ideas of fun, and they usually ended in jail or in bed with random strangers. Or in bed with each other. But then he saw bright green eyes swimming in the back of his mind and decided he would do anything Blaise said just to get those goddamn emeralds out of his head.

"What do I need to do?" Draco asked slowly.

"Get dressed." Blaise relied.

That didn't sound _so_ bad to Draco.

oOo

"What have you got for me?" Harry asked the young boy that was waiting at the corner of two alleys in the warehouse district.

The tiny little boy whipped around with a scared expression on his face but when he saw Harry, he relaxed and slipped the silver knife that he was holding back into the holster inside his coat.

The boy wasn't more than 13 years old, with dirty light blonde hair that was bleached by the summer sun, and an ensemble of stained sweaters under a brown jacket and cuffed shoes.

"I've got the numbers, Harry. But it's still not enough." The little boy said.

"Let's see." Harry said, holding out his hand. The boy handed him a black folio case with no label and quickly stepped back, as though afraid that the Vampire might strike him. Of course, Jack Mulciber (because that was the boy's name) knew that Harry would never touch him, but he was still only 13, and being so young, and in the situation he was in, he was jumpy about everything. He looked down the alley that Harry had come down, and then to the left and right of the street behind him to make sure there was nobody suspicious looking there.

One could wonder why a boy so young was this paranoid, but Harry already knew, and he also knew there was no point in comforting the boy. Jack Mulciber was the son of a now deceased Death Eater. And he was the messenger sent today from the group that called themselves the Redeemers.

The Redeemers were all children of past or dead Death Eaters who knew there was no way that they could get back into the good graces of modern Wizard Society. They may be innocent, but their parents were not, and the Wizarding World was very good at holding grudges. The five children, led by Theodore Nott, were doing all they could to survive in the merciless underground because they had no where else to go. When Harry contacted them with his proposal, they were cautious, but realised that this was maybe a ticket out of the cold.

Harry Potter's new business deal wasn't the most virtuous, but it got him what he needed (if it could ever be financed) and the group of Redeemers could help him. For a price. But a price well worth paying.

Harry sighed. The figures in the folio were not good. In fact, they were dead depressing. If only he could get his parents' fortune from the Gringotts vault he would be able to get this project off the ground, but there was no way he could prance into the bank after two years of being suspiciously gone and ask for the money.

No, there had to be a way to get the money he needed. The only problem with getting money was that it would involve even more people into his project, and this wasn't something Harry wanted to do. He wanted people he could trust. And crazy as it was, he trusted the Redeemers.

"Jack." Harry said, after closing the folio and stuffing it into an inside pocket.

"Yes, Harry?" the boy answered.

"I'm going to give you a list of names and numbers. You're going to give this list to Theo and ask him to call these people. Numbers 7-10 are French, so you're going to have to ask Madeleine to talk to them, but I need him to ask for the same think he asked before, right? Can you do that for me, Jack?" Harry explained patiently.

"Right, I'll do it. Give Theo the names and get him to call. Same deal. Got it." The little boy repeated. With a small sigh, he folded the list of names that Harry had given him and added it to the inside pocket along with the knife holster.

Harry then pulled out a sandwich that he picked up at a Deli on the way and handed it to the boy. He knew that this was probably the only supper they was going to get, so he always got some food for whoever the messenger was. Jack grabbed the sandwich and mumbled an embarrassed 'thanks', then ran across the street and out of sight.

Harry leaned against the grimy wall and started after the boy. It was nearly midnight. The streets were yellow from the nasty streetlight glare and the ground was wet again from the afternoon showers.

There was something strange in the air in London. Even the Muggles were beginning to notice it. It was cold, and there was rain almost everyday. The news predicted some sort of citywide cooling that had something to do with air drifts and wind currents but Harry had his doubts. He knew something was coming… but for once, he didn't care. He had defeated the Dark Lord, and that was his claim on life. Now he was a Vampire, trying to start an illegal project with a bunch of Death Eater children and he simply didn't care what happened to the Wizarding World.

After becoming a vampire against his will, his unhappiness with all of Wizardkind had multiplied. After everything he's been through, defeating the 'greatest evil' and then some, he was turned into a blood-sucking monster. It was unfair. And it made him feel like he was five years old to complain about it, but this was how he felt.

So he sighed, and walked down the street that he knew led out of the Warehouse District and took the all-too familiar route down to Grimmauld Place. He did this all the time now. Ever since he came back to London. Just to remind him of what he used to have, and how he couldn't hurt the people who he loved by returning.

The walk was long, but Harry had nowhere else to be, so he took his time. The streets were empty by the time he got to the residential area in which Grimmauld Place was situated. It was nearly three in the morning, but there were still some lights on in the houses here.

And to Harry's great surprise, there were lights on in number 12, which slid from between 11 and 13 as he walked past. Harry stopped and blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

Nope, definitely lights. And then there were people inside. Harry could see them moving around through the curtains.

He walked up to the house. The downstairs window was the one where he saw movement. Harry bit his lip and tried to regain his composure. What if it was just Kreacher, and he was just getting his hopes up?

But it wasn't Kreacher. It was Hermione Granger. It was one of Harry's best friends from school standing in his Drawing Room unpacking boxes of silverware and chipped china.

Harry walked right up to the window. The curtains were opened but there was a crack to see into the room, and with Harry's Vampire senses he could hear what they were saying.

"…no, Ron, you cant put the cups into there! That one still needs to be cleaned. God, look at it, there must be a village of dust living in that one cupboard."

"Yeah, it's too bad Kreacher is still working at Hogwarts, he would have loved to clean his precious House of Black." Ron replied.

"Ron! House elves shouldn't _have_ to clean – "

"Oh, calm down Hermione. Kreacher _would_ have loved to help clean. I thought you said he was a much nicer elf now that we're nice to him?" Ginny said, coming into the room with a box labelled 'cleaning supplies'.

"Yeah, but the only one who could call him was Harry, so tough luck for you Ron, you'll actually have to clean something." Hermione relied with a smirk.

"Well, doesn't that mean that Harry's still alive?" Ginny asked, biting her lip, she knew how much the other two don't like to talk about Harry dead. "I mean, if he weren't here, wouldn't control of Kreacher go to someone else?"

"Harry never left a will, Ginny." Hermione said quietly, so that Harry had to press his face to the window.

"Yeah, but doesn't the fact that Kreacher isn't free mean that Harry isn't dead?" Ginny asked.

"Maybe," Hermione said, with a sigh. "But we'll never know for sure."

Ron took the feather duster out of the box but then looked up at the two girls.

"We'd know if he were dead. Someone would have reported it." He said, for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past two years. They have had this discussion over and over for months but it just ended the same every time. Nobody knew where Harry was, or if he was alive or if he was even the same Harry that they knew from two years ago.

Even after the war was over and Harry moved into Grimmauld Place, he was changing. He was distant, even from Ginny, whom he always talked to. He was still trying to come to terms with what happened at the end of the war, the death's, and the pain. All of his friends could tell he wasn't doing great, but this didn't explain the mysterious disappearance only two weeks after he moved into Grimmauld Place.

"Ron, I think the dust is alive in this place." Hermione finally broke the silence. " I think it's moving."

Ginny giggled and Ron raised his eyebrows.

"Don't worry ladies, I'll protect you from the evil dust bunnies of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black." Ron said in a mock aristocratic way, with a bow.

Both girls laughed and started to grab supplies from the box of cleaning things.

"We have three days, guys. We can do this." Hermione said with a manic look in her eyes.

"Aw, come on Hermione, it's nearly four in the morning." Ron whined.

"You woke up at four in the afternoon!" Ginny said with a playful punch to her brother's shoulder.

"So?" Ron said, rubbing the spot and shaking his head.

"Oh, Ron." Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

Harry couldn't take anymore. Those were his friends. The friends he hasn't seen of heard in years, and being this close and not being able to go join in on their fun almost brought tears to Harry's eyes.

He tore himself away from the window and stumbled through the uncut grass to the street. They were here. They were living in London. In his house.

Harry shook his head as if trying to get rid of the image of their happy faces. It was so much easier to live in the darkness and not see them than it was to remember. Ignorance truly was bliss.

Harry took one last look at the house and walked down the street to the City Centre where he could take the sewers to the Coop.

Harry didn't even realise that the rain had started up again. The light drizzle of translucent drops caressed him and blended with the salt water already on his face.

* * *

AN: I'm not quite sure when the next update will be, because I'm working on a few oneshots, but I'm hoping to write the next chapter in about two weeks. Please review, it makes me happy. :) 


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